On Stars: Two Poems

And everybody knows we’re made of stars, but only stars that built an iron heart.The anger that we know will scarcely make a sound,the pathos that we show shall be renounced,when every star falls down.

And what does it all mean to be a part, and what good does it do to be apart?Till my carcass is found sixty feet underground,I’d still be my very own only faithful son, epitome, embodiment, and best paragon.Guardian of the Nightby Izzy Soper

The bewitching glare of a moon in the dark skyWhite like a lily petal dropped into the seaAnd the deathly stillness of the night reclaimsWhat day had taken in its blaring noiseIts every movement covering the tracks of the nightAnd as the moon sways in soft motions aboveThe tracks of the night return with nature’s strum of midnightStill, solitary, silentAnd slinking through the trees, chasing away every trace of dayAnd with a tremor to shake any light from the skyA howl echoes across the stars that slowlyBlink outThe guardian of the night returns to his postTo watch with fire lit eyesAs the hours of heavy dusk creep quietly by.